


Ashen Demon, Golden Sun

by FrozenHearts



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bandits & Outlaws, Canon Compliant, Child My Unit | Byleth, Churches & Cathedrals, Crossover Pairings, First Meetings, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Plegia, Pre-Awakening, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rescue, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenHearts/pseuds/FrozenHearts
Summary: Jeralt's mercenary group seeks refuge in a monestary on the border of Plegia.
Relationships: Alois Rangeld & Shamir Nevrand, Henry & Riviera | Libra, Henry & Sallya | Tharja, Jeralt Reus Eisner & Alois Rangeld, Jeralt Reus Eisner & My Unit | Byleth, Jeralt Reus Eisner/Riviera | Libra, My Unit | Byleth & Shamir Nevrand, Riviera | Libra & My Unit | Byleth, Riviera | Libra & Sallya | Tharja, Shamir Nevrand & Jeralt Reus Eisner
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	Ashen Demon, Golden Sun

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my drafts since February 2 and I was tired of looking at it so sorry if it suddenly gets shitty towards the end whoops

Being on the road was no place for a child.

Jeralt Eisner could say he knew that better than anybody; after burning down that damned monestary, Jeralt had taken his baby girl and run. Seteth nor Rhea could say anything and if they tried (because he knew Rhea was the type to be sly, the type to undermine while Seteth was practically brainwashed into blindly following her, the poor fool), he would make sure to disappear permanently, where Rhea couldn't get her hands on his kid ever again. 

This he found himself with his armor, his weapon and a rucksack to provide for his child as best he could. Alois was along to help take care of Byleth when he was unable, and along the way, a woman named Shamir appeared at their campsite one night, casually chewing on Alois's beef jerky as if she'd always been there, cradling a sleeping Byleth in her arms.

That was a month ago. Gone were the woods of Fodlan, paving way to villages and plains. 

It was rather idyllic, in Jeralt's opinion, as well as annoying. There hadn't been much work to come by wherever they visited, even as they ventured into the new lands.

"Ylisse is where we are, if you're wondering," Shamir said once as they wandered through the woods, "We should be nearing the Border Pass soon enough."

"You know maybe we should stay in Ylisse?" Alois piped up. He was walking alongside Shamir, rolling his shoulders in his armor. Sweat sheened on his forehead and even Shamir looked slightly uncomfortable, fidgeting with the choker necklace she wore as the heat bore down on them.

Byleth, however, seemed unbothered, running around without a care in the world as they walked. Her hair was growing longer, jagged ends from where he cut it for her last time. 

"Why?" Shamir shrugged, finally taking off her real jacket, tying it around her waist, "We're fine, the kid's fine-"

"I see she found a flower!" Alois boomed proudly as they watched Byleth yank a few dandelions out of the earth, staring blankly as she marched over to Jeralt.

Eerily silent, Byleth thrust the flowers at her dad.

"For me?" Jeralt crouched down to take them, sniffing obnoxiously as he said "Thanks, kiddo. You're the best."

Byleth didn't say anything, offering a devilish grin that Jeralt thought would have looked odd in any other child's face, before she giggled and spun on her heel, running off ahead. 

"She needs somewhere to stay," Jeralt sighed, turning to Alois and Shamir, "I'm afraid I don't know Ylisse as well as I should-"

Shamir crossed her arms, cocking her head as she eyed the horizon. Up ahead The Meadows began to recede, making way to heavy golden sands and salty sea air. 

"We're coming up on the Plegian border now," Shamir said, "Quiet place. They won't ask questions."

"What do you mean?" Jeralt asked, nudging Alois, "You think it's another inn?"

Alois chuckled, "My friend, you don't get out much! Plegia hasn't hosted inns since the death of Exalt Emmeryn. Now their borders are quite perilous, save for the odd churches here and there."

Jeralt rolled his eyes. Great, just what's he needed. After the whole fiasco at Garreg Mach, the fire and the experiments... he shuddered, pushing the memory away. Sand crunched underfoot and the air was stale with salt; they had caught up to his daughter, who was patiently waiting, her toes in the sand.

"Hey sweetheart," Jeralt put a hand on her shoulder, "Did you see anything?"

With a small hand, she pointed out towards the dunes.

"Bandits," was all she said, "and singing."

Singing?

Turning to Shamir and Alois, he saw they both already had a weapon drawn; Alois's sword gleamed as he pulled it out and Shamir was already pulling an arrow from her quiver. Crouching down, Jeralt took Byleth by the shoulders, "What singing?"

"In the sand," Byleth said, her gaze turning back towards the desert, "I saw a church too."

Fuck. Of course. 

"Most likely a hymn or canticle," Shamir offered for explanation, "Byleth, did it sound anything like Garreg Mach?"

Byleth shook her head, "No. But it was pretty. I liked his voice."

Silence hung heavy between them; it was a good thing they could rule out Rhea, but now this? Sighing, Jeralt scrubbed a hand down his face. Narrowing his eyes, Jeralt peered into the sand- he could see what looked like people running around but they were too far to be sure. Before Jeralt could say anything, however, Byleth made a noise of surprise and dashed off, disappearing into the sand.

Well, fuck.

"Crap!" Jeralt hissed, "Byleth, stop!"

Shamir and Alois were quick to follow, and Jeralt could only curse at himself as he followed his child into possible danger. 

\----------

Libra was singing to himself as he put the candles out on the altar.

It had been a few months after Lady Emmeryn's death and Chrom and Lissa had needed guidance more than ever, what with the throne in such dissaray. As a servant of Naga, Libra knew he must guide them, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. Gangrel on the throne of Plegia made the neighboring kingdoms restless- with the current unrest in Fodlan, between Faerghus and Adrestia, Gangrel was just itching to launch Plegia into another war. 

Rolling his shoulders, Libra groaned as his joints popped; his robes felt heavy in the Plegian summer heat, but he kept wearing them. Long blonde hair was matted to his face and neck with sweat and he did his best to push it out of his face- he knew he should probably cut it, but he liked it longer. The church was thankfully quiet- Henry and Tharja had left a while ago, putting up some traps surrounding the church for protection. 

Libra heard the noise as he was just finishing cleaning up the altar. Heart jumping in his throat, he ventured out into the foyer, narrowing his eyes as he peered into the endless sandy desert. 

"Henry? Tharja?" Libra called out, "Are you back already?"

No answer.

"Huh." Libra chuckled to himself, turning back inside. Henry and Tharja sometimes liked to stick around for an hour or so, practicing their magic or keeping an eye out-

A small squeak, like a boot on linoleum, caught Libra's attention. It echoed in the main hall, and he thought he could see the edge of dark teal hair disappear behind a pew. Cautiously, Libra approached the left side of the pews- peering down each, he found them empty.

Until he got to the very front row.

Sitting calmly in the middle of the bench was a young child, a girl in dark pants that made her skin seem almost unearthly pale. Her eyes were wide and blue, almost boring into him as she turned to look who found her. Smiling softly, Libra gestured to the bench.

"May I sit with you?" he asked, and the child shrugged. The wood creaked as he slid next to her- she couldn't have been older than maybe nine or ten, up close. 

"May I ask your name?" Libra asked.

She didn't say anything, cocking her head curiously at him.

"My name is Libra," Libra said, biting his lip.

After a few minutes of silence, the child finally answered him.

"Byleth," she said, "Is this a Church of Seiros?"

Libra chuckled, "No, this is a house of Naga. Do you know the story of Naga, Byleth?"

Byleth shook her head, glancing around at the tapestries and decorations on the wall. Candles sat half melted in their sconces, wax dripping over the stone of the wall to puddle on the floor. Heaving a sigh, Libra pointed to one of the tapestries on the far wall. 

"This depicts Naga as she was," Libra explained, "protector of us humans from the wrath of Mila and Duma."

Byleth hummed, "She was a dragon, right?"

"Indeed," Libra nodded, "She was an earth dragon, divine to the life bestowed on our planet-"

"But Seiros is a bad dragon," Byleth cut in.

Libra raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Byleth began to kick her feet, averting her gaze as she shrugged her tiny shoulders. "Jeralt says so. That Lady Rhea was trying to use Seiros to get money."

"Ah," Libra sighed, his breath shaky, "I see."

If he was being honest, Libra was not Lady Rhea's biggest fan. He wasn't sure what it was, but the way she preached, the way she moved, the way she spoke was, quite frankly, condescending. His mind flashed to a moment when he arrived at Garreg Mach a few years back.

It had been during Gangrel's March on Ylisse, and even though he was but a cleric, Libra knew Prince Chrom and Princess Lissa needed as many troops behind them as possible to stop Gangrel's forces in their tracks.

She had merely laughed behind a dainty hand and sent him back, Seiros and Naga be damned.

Libra wouldn't put it past her if she had tried to take any of the divine being's powers for herself, consequences be damned.

"And who is Jeralt, child?" Libra forced the thought away, mirroring the way Byleth hung her head, "A friend, perhaps?"

"He's my dad," Byleth said, "I travel with him a lot, and he's teaching me magic."

Hair fell in Libra's face as he nodded, "Very noble. It is important to be able to protect yourself nowadays. And where is your father?"

Here, Byleth picked her head up, lifting an arm to point towards the church doors- Libra followed her finger to see that he had left them wide open, bursts of hot desert air blowing sand into the foyer.

"We saw bandits," Byleth said matter-of-factly, "this is a nice church."

Libra's face fell, breath hitching as he took Byleth by the shoulders, steering her out of the pew and down the center aisle.

They were only a few feet from the door, and now that he was close to the front yard, he could indeed hear voices amongst the dunes and crumbling stone, loud yells and nasty jeers that made Libra's skin crawl. His fingers clenched around the handle of an axe that wasn't there and he mentally kicked himself.

"Alright, Byleth," Libra leaned down to talk to her, "My friends are mages, like you-"

Her face lit up, blue eyes shining with Glee as she shrieked, "Really?!"

Libra winced, stealing a glance past the doors, "Yes! Their names are Henry and Tharja! They are supposed to be coming by to visit me today."

Libra silently thanked Tharja for hexing the dunes with a protective wall as he heard one of the bandits outside scream in pain, and he was quick to usher Byleth deeper into the church.

No child should need to see such vulgarity anyway.

"I think Miss Tharja would love to see what you learned, and Henry knows a lot of animal spells too," Libra heard his voice rise as panic began to set in, but Byleth seemed in awe at the mere idea of Tharja, babbling about the spells this Jeralt had began to teach her on the road.

"Does Jeralt know them?" Byleth asked as Libra brought her into an alcove, in a back room of the church, "We met a lot of mages when we travelled through Fodlan."

"Well, maybe he'll know if he sees them," Libra assured her, "Is your father on his way here?"

Byleth nodded, "I ran ahead to get here. The bandits didn't seem very nice."

Libra cooed, smoothing down her unruly hair as he hoped she didn't see his hands shaking, "And you're a very brave girl for doing that, Byleth."

Byleth beamed, and Libra really wished Henry was still here to distract her; he was always good with children, in his own odd way.

"You're pretty," Byleth said suddenly, "Like Lady Rhea."

Libra knew his face must be crimson, as he managed a small "Oh?"

Byleth nodded, "But you're nicer than she is. I think Jeralt would like you."

"Well...." Libra jumped as he heard the yelling outaide grow louder, echoing down the hall, "you're a very smart girl, Byleth- did you know that my friend Henry likes to play hide-and-seek?"

"He does? I wanna play!"

Libra nodded, "We will, but we need to be very quiet, okay? I think... I think I heard him counting outside. I need you to hide in here, and be as quiet as you can-"

Byleth's face suddenly morphed into something Libra couldn't quite describe. The glint in her eye was gone, the blue having gone flat but she dutifully squeezed her eyes shut, shuffling into the tightest and farthest corner she could find. Libra praised her softly as he began overturning the desks and chairs- they were dusty from being left alone for so long, dark wood mottled with rot and time. 

Libra thought it had been a while since children graced these halls and he sorely wished it wasn't like this. 

As quietly as possible, Libra pulled the door behind him, grabbing his axe on the way into the hall. He could hear crashing and yelling from the altar.

"Dear Naga, have mercy that this child survive," Libra prayed, hiding his axe behind his back as he slithered down towards the alcove, heart hammering so hard against his ribs he thought it would break forth from his chest.

If the bandits found the child, Libra desperately hoped the barricade he made kept her safe if he could not.

\------

The firs thing he noticed when they ran into the dunes was the many purple hex circles etched on the ground. Ruins smothered the sand and on the crumbling stone Jeralt found many warding spells in the form of small drawings in the sand or scrolls smacked onto half-destroyed pillars of rock. 

"Byleth said it was a church," Shamir pointed out, "But why all the dark magic?"

"Perhaps it is a cult?" Alois suggested, "Otherwise why would such evil people beseige a church?"

Jeralt was loathe to admit it, but Alois had a point. All the churches in Fodlan were surrounded with barriers of glorious white magic spells, little blessings here and there that made occupants and visitors feel safe from the outside world. But this magic felt wrong. Unstable wavelengths of energy that the three of them could see shimmering in a hazy purple on the heated earth.

"Remember this isn't Fodlan," Jeralt replied, tightening his grip on his sword, "Plegia and Ylisse obvious have very different ideas when it comes to.... whatever this is."

Ideas that Jeralt didn't want to think about, as he watched a bandit run head first near the church doors- up ahead, only to freeze as he stepped on a magic seal; his leg looked to be locked in place, pale skin and ratty breeches slowly turning into cracked limestone.

Whatever was in that church must be very important, Jeralt thought, because that is a spell not even Rhea would dare use, even in the most sure of circumstances.

"It looks like the magic is taking care of most of the bandits," Shamir shook Jeralt's shoulder, "but we still need to be careful on our way in."

Alois simply gave his usual impish grin before pulling out his axe, practically dancing as he did his best to weave through the traps and tricks on his way to the open church doors. Shamir was quick with her now, taking down any bandits who tried to attack Alois from behind whilst she hid with the safety of a pillar.

And so Jeralt found himself charging through any bandits Alois and Shamir missed, blood spattering against his skin and clothes as he ran them through with a quick flick of his wrist, his steel blade biting through flesh and bone.

Alois was pulling his axe from the chest of a sniper near the door when Jeralt approached, beckoning him to follow inside. The foyer was wide and open, white marble paved with flaking gold mouldings and colorful glass windows. One of the windows, however, had been cracked- shards of green and pink and blue littered the ground, dust unsettled from a rock or another blunt object that was no longer there.

"Forgive me, Jeralt, but I believe this is not a house of Seiros," Alois whispered, making Jeralt jump.

Quickly, he shushed him, "There may be more bandits inside."

"And Byleth?"

"And Byleth," Jeralt agreed, "Make haste, but stick to the walls- I see the doors to the main hall are open as well."

"Plegia and Ylisse seem a bit more open to visitors," Alois's voice echoed, "then again we're in a desert!"

Shamir rolled her eyes as she slithered forward, back pressed against the stone as she carefully picked her way through broken glass and dripping candle wax. The light made her purple hair shine like a jewel and upon looking at the window Shamir had taken refuge under, Jeralt wished he were visiting under different circumstances.

In the window was depicted a woman, her dress white and billowing and her hair green as grass and oh so long. At first he thought it was Lady Rhea they were depicting, but this woman's face was drawn kindly, anguish obvious in her eyes as she struggled to hold back two other powerful forced while humans were depicted like ants scattering for cover. 

Boots scraped against the floor as they made their way down the front hall, Jeralt quick to throw a hand out to his companions.

"Jeralt-!" Alois started, only to clamp his mouth shut at Shamir's scathhing look. She held a finger to her lips and Jeralt cocked his head, struggling to listen.

"-eeking refuge in a house of Naga," a voice said, deep, but not so deep as to miss the higher base notes in tone, "I am the father here. How may I assist you?"

Ah, shit. Of course there had to be someone else here. Shamir was already pulling out another arrow as they heard one of the bandits cackle in the priest's face.

"You? A Father?" the leader laughed in disbelief, "With that face?"

A pause.

"... Only men may wear the robes of Naga. It is the way, as it has been since Mila and Duma's uprisings past. I do my best to serve her."

Jeralt felt himself sighing with relief; he was thankful this priest was not a friend of Rhea's, as her church accepted both men and women. Then again, Plegia and Ylisse did not operate fully under a church, as Shamir and Alois had explained earlier. He couldn't help feel like it was a good thing.

The bandit said something to someone else, and from his hiding spot, it looked like there was another bandit haphazardly smashing the pews that were pushed up against the wall. The wood splintered with a loud crack, the pirate muttering cursed under his breath as he failed to discover anything of value. 

"Would you like to take confession, my children?" the priest asked, and Jeralt stilled at the desperation on the edge of his tongue. "The booth is right over here-"

"Boss! I'm gonna look in the back!" the pew smashing bandit yelled. His whine echoed in the church, grating on Jeralt's ears. He felt Alois wince next to him and Shamir looked unbothered, despite the twitch in her eye.

"A-are you sure?" footsteps sounded and Jeralt finally saw the priest, dashing in long white robes to the other side of the room. Long blonde hair fell freely down his back, shining gold in the light streaming from the window and there was an axe slipped into his belt, hidden in the folds of his garb.

"Smart man," Shamir commented before slinking forward, crouching behind the nearest pew. Alois was quick to follow and for a moment, Jeralt froze: Alois never kept up with his armor and the clanking usually gave him away, but he was surprisingly silent as he went. 

"What's it to ya?" the bandit sneered at the priest, "We're bandits. We're gonna rob you anyway."

The priest wrung his hands as he floundered, "There is nothing of importance, I can assure you!"

A snort.

"Then you won't mind if we take a look."

The priest was either very stupid or very brave, as he moved to stand in front of the bandits, arms wide as he tried to block the door that no doubt lead to the back rooms of the church. Jeralt had a hard time seeing the man's face from here, but with the bandits focused on the priest, he was able to sidle up to Alois and Shamir, who waited with tense shoulders and bated breath. 

"Do we move now?" Shamir muttered, raising an eyebrow as the bandit leaned closer to the priest, almost towering over him.

"While he does have an axe, I am unsure if he'll be able to weild it in time," Alois added, then to Jeralt, "Shall we split up? We need to search for Byleth as well."

Jeralt was about to answer when the priest began to yell back at the bandits. It wasn't the kind of yelling that indicted fear, but a warning.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," he announced, tone cold and abrupt.

The bandit made a noise, "And why is that, Father? Aren't you supposed to open your heart to those in need?"

"Y-yes,' the priest admitted, "but it is also my duty to protect those who seek refuge within these walls."

"And who says we ain't seeking refuge?"

"The weapons on your person."

\-------

Libra knew he should have kept his mouth shut. He knew he should have probably let Tharja and Henry's traps take care of the bandits, but he couldn't. It was duty to greet those who entered, no matter who they were, but Libra was severely regretting not locking himself in the back room with Byleth and waiting until the bandits ransacked the place and left when they got bored.

It was when he moved to block the door that Libra saw them, though.

Three people, dressed in leather and steel armor, were hiding behind the last row of pews. Two men and a woman, crouched expertly to stay out of sight, eyes keen and weapons drawn as they surveyed the scene. 

More bandits? Libra thought, only to disregard it, as these people seemed more put together. For one, their clothing and supplies were more well kept, and as far as he had seen, none of the bandits who attacked the church had been a woman.

Libra wanted to think he could trust them, but how to get their attention....

"-aren't gonna hurt anyone unless I say so," the snarl of the leader pulled Libra from his thoughts and he was suddenly aware that both bandits were now very close.

Way to close, in fact, as he smelled the whiskey on their breaths, the pungent decay of fish and salt from the sea. He kept his arms out, however, mustering up what he hoped was a defiant glare as he pulled his shoulders back and held his head high.

Byleth still thought this was hide-and-seek, after all. He didn't want her to get involved.

"I can't let you back there," Libra shot back, "You may offer your prayers if you want."

The bandits shared a look that sent a shiver down Libra's spine. Just over the bandits shoulders, Libra saw the other three warriors beginning to move from their hiding spot and he caught one of the men's eye. He had pale skin, wearing a leather vest over a plain shirt and sandy brown hair that framed a square face. His cheeks were weathered from the sun, and his nose looked a little bent and for a second, he was the only thing Libra wanted to focus on.

He licked his lips, tearing his gaze away just as the bandits finished whatever silent conversation they seemed to be having.

"Tell ya what," the leader said, "My friend and I will leave you alone-"

Libra beamed with relief, "May Naga bless you-"

"- for a price," the bandit finished.

Libra bit his lower lip, "Y-you want to make a donation to the church?"

Libra winced as the bandits laughed, and from the corner of his eye, he saw the warrior in silver armor jump from his new hiding spot behind the baptismal font- when had he gotten there?!?

"If you can make an offering, we'll be on our way," the leader waggled his eyebrows, and-

Oh.

Oh, no.

Libra schooled the panic on his face into something more manageable but his cheeks burned as he tried to stammer out a halfway decent reply. This wasn't the first time this has happened, people thinking he was a woman who was hiding her figure under the robes, but... but ....

"We can just go back there anyway-"

"In Naga's name, I forbid you from touching her!" Libra blurted, reaching for the axe on his belt and the metal was cool against his skin as he pulled, his shoulders jerking as he swung his axe forth with all his might. The bandits were quick, nimbly jumping back to avoid the edge of the blade. It landed with a loud think in the crack of the stone wall and Libra looked between the bandits and his weapon, breath hitching until his throat burned, knuckles turning white as he struggled to pull the axe free.

"So there is something back there!" the leader's lackey echoed with wonder, "Wonder if she's as pretty as you then!"

Libra yanked and tugged with all he could muster, but it was no use- the axe was fully stuck, and his hands were starting to slip, clammy with sweat. 

"You wouldn't dare touch a child!" Libra yelled, "You've already desecrated a holy house-"

The leader had an evil glint in his eye as he and his friend leaned closer; Libra took a step back, knees shaking as he forced himself to give up on his weapon, fingers clenching and unclenching as the blood in his temples began to pound in time with the beat of his heart.

"Alright, so we won't take the child," the leader cut him off as he moved in, "But we can desecrate you instead, Father. See what Naga sees in you."

Libra gagged, ducking out from under their gaze to the altar, tripping backwards up the steep little stairs until his back hit the lip of the baptismal font.

Until he heard the soft grunt of the font scrape against armor.

\-------

Jeralt snapped his head up when he heard the priest yell about the child.

"Byleth is here," Shamir said, almost as if reading his mind and she was already slipping past the bandits, arrow still ready as she managed to sneak behind the pillar closest to the priest. The axe (which was extremely impressive, as the man didn't look all that strong) was still stuck in the wall and Jeralt's heart fell into his gut as he watched the priest being forced to abandon his only source of protection.

Byleth's source of protection.

Even though he was closer, he still couldn't make out what was being said, as the priest back away onto the altar, knocking the baptismal font into Alois's shoulder guard.

It was when the priest froze in shock, almost like he just remembered something, that the bandits took their chance. The priest cried out in shock as the leader's grubby hands snatched at his beautiful long hair, pulling hard enough to send the priest tumbling down the small set of stairs to sprawl on the floor. He immediately straddled the priest's hips, his friend moving to pin his wrists down. Jeralt sent a wide-eyed look towards Alois, who the bandits had thankfully not seen yet, gesturing frantically for him to do something.

The priest was praying as the bandits mandhandled him, his voice warbling as he tried not to cry, but the quick sound of an open palm against his cheek gave way to a loud pained wail.

Jeralt hadn't realize he crossed the room until his sword cleaved straight through the leader's neck, cracking through the bone until the head rolled away from the shoulders. Alois was not far behind now, his axe thrust into the other bandit's shoulder until his arm came clean off.

"Fuck!" the bandit screeched, letting go of one of the priest's wrists to press against the open wound, "Shit, fuck!"

Alois resheathed his axe, gesturing to the bandit who was shaking now, "Jeralt, you take care of the priest. I'll handle this one."

And then Alois was gone, dragging the screaming bandit away to leave Jeralt crouching next to one teary-eyed priest. His chest heaved as he stared up at the ceiling with an almost blank stare, and small whimpers were accompanied with snot bubbling from his nose. His hair was splayed like a halo around his head, and for a second, Jeralt was reminded of Rhea's elaborate golden headpiece before he realized: the bandits arm was still attached, the now dead hand still wrapped around the priest's wrist. His face and clothes were sprayed with red from Jeralt's execution and whatever was dripping from the severed arm. 

"Shit, okay...." Jeralt muttered under his breath before reaching over and delicately snapping the fingers, tossing the arm aside when he finally freed the last finger. "Can you see me? Understand me?"

For a minute, the priest said nothing, his breathing heavy and his eyes wide, like a deer staring down the business end of one of Shamir's arrows when she went hunting. 

"T-the... child...." the priest whispered, "Don't touch.... her...."

Right. Byleth was here, somewhere- had she seen this?

Jeralt shook his head, moving to cup both the priest's cheeks in his hands, thumbs brushing away the fallen tears. He smeared the blood on his face, but he ignored it, making sure the priest was looking only at him.

"Father, my name is Jeralt Eisner, my friends and I are here to help you."

Something like recognition flooded the priest's face as he frowned, brows knitted together as he asked, "J... Jeralt? Byleth said.... her father's name-"

Jeralt nodded, "Thank you for keeping her safe, Father. I'm going to help you sit up, okay?"

The priest blinked with watery green eyes and Jeralt took that as permission, slipping one hand behind the man's back and marveling at the muscle as he slowly pulled him up. The priest seemed to be coming back to himself ever so slowly as Jeralt patted him down to check for other injuries, brushing soft hair out of his face as he searched for a head wound.

By the time Alois came back inside, Jeralt was examining the bruises on the priest's wrists, "Everything taken care of, Alois?"

"Tip-top, if I may say!" Alois saluted him with a smile, then knelt down next to the priest, "And how do you feel?"

The priest blinked as he watched with owlish eyes as Jeralt brushed his fingers along each knuckle before he managed to answer, "Please, I'm fine, Byleth is-"

"Safe, thanks to you," Jeralt turned to see Shamir leading Byleth into the church, leaning over slightly as Byleth held her hand. Shamir smiled softly as she added, "Found her barricaded inside one of the back rooms."

Jeralt let go of the priest's wrists, turning to his daughter to hug her, only for her to march up to the priest and tug sternly on the sleeve of his robes.

"You said we were playing hide and seek!" Byleth pouted.

Oh, Jeralt thought, that must have been how the priest got her to stay out of the way of those bandits.

"Well, you see, Henry and Tharja had so much trouble... finding you...."

Jeralt didn't know who this Henry and Tharja were, but it was obvious the man was picking at straws so he jumped in, "They couldn't find you, so they came to get me and Shamir and Alois!"

Byleth turned on him with a gasp, "Really?"

Jeralt nodded, "Yeah, kid. And Alois's jokes were so bad, Henry and Tharja decided to go home!"

Alois shoved him with a stern "Hey!" but Jeralt ignored him. Byleth seemed to buy it, shrugging as she turned to Shamir to tell her how good she was at hide and seek. Jeralt focused on the priest, wary of the blood that had sprayed onto his robes.

"Sorry about the mess," Jeralt offered lamely. The priest shook his head, stray strands of hair falling in his face and Jeralt idly pushed it back for him. He could feel Alois's curious gaze boring into his shoulder, but Byleth was occupied with Shamir, so Jeralt figured he could.... take his time. The priest still looked pretty shaken too, cheeks flushed slightly as he caught his breath. 

"No," he shook his should, "I should be thanking you. Once again, Naga has sent me a savior, blessed she be."

Alois coughed, "Father, forgive me for this, but are you implying that you have been attacked in such a manner prior to our arrival?"

The wide eyes and averted gaze was all Jeralt needed to know.

"Tharja will need to strengthen her wards next time she visits, I suppose," the priest shrugged, "but I am glad Byleth is safe, and in good hands."

Jeralt knew he must have had a bewildered look on his face, raising an eyebrow at how quickly he dismissed the whole thing. Alois moved to entertain Byleth alongside Shamir, leaving Jeralt to sit with the priest, watching as he smoothed down his dirty robes, frowning as he ran shaky, thin fingers through silky blond hair.

"These Tharja and Henry people-"

"While they practice in black magics they are good at heart," the priest snapped suddenly, *Plegia and Ylisse are in dark times, Mr. Eisner- we don't need Fodlan adding to our chaos."

Jeralt sighed, "Seems it already has. I am sorry, for the damage done to the church. We can help repair the place, if you like."

The priest sighed, "Mr. Eisner-"

Jeralt clapped a hand to his shoulder, leaning in slightly, "Byleth told you, my name is Jeralt."

The priest gave a soft chuckle and an warm feeling spread in Jeralt's chest, blooming up his neck and across his face.

"Yes, she did," the priest agreed, "My name is Libra. Under different circumstances it would be a pleasure to meet all of you."

"It still is," Jeralt shrugged, "and I must thank you. You protected my daughter in my stead, I-"

Libra placed a hand on Jeralt's cheek; his fingers were calloused and his skin was hot to the touch but Jeralt didn't try to pull away. Smiling, Libra said, "As a servant of Naga, J provide sanctuary to those who need it. Your daughter was very brave."

And then the hand on his cheek was gone, Libra moving to kneel as Byleth came barreling back towards them. Her tiny hands fisted Libra's sleeve and she was bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet, blue eyes wide and sparkling.

"Libra! Shamir and Alois found magic books!" she cried, "I wanna learn!"

Jeralt scolded her, "Byleth! Don't just grab, let Libra rest."

"Quite alright," Libra assured him, then to Byleth, "I know mostly healing magic, but with your father's permission, you may read them if you like."

Byleth gasped, running off to scream at Shamir and Alois, and Jeralt rubbed his temple as her voice echoed harshly in the church.

Heaving a sigh, Jeralt moved to stand, guiding Libra to his feet to make sure he was steady.

"Thank you," Libra offered, then gesturing to the room, "as this is a house of Naga, I offer you rest before your journey."

"That's all we need, Father," Jeralt smiled back, "but please, let us help clean this up."

Libra nodded, "I appreciate the help. Shall we?"

Jeralt nodded, and he watched as Libra approached his axe: it was still embedded in the pillar, the silver gleaming under the church lights as dust slathered the blade. Rolling up his sleeves, Libra cracked his knuckles, then his neck with a roll of his shoulders.

"Your wrist, Libra!" Jeralt warned.

But the priest ignored him, wrapping his fingers tight around the handle until his knuckles turned white. Alois and Shamir seemed to get the message, pulling Byleth back until they were sure she was safe from the oncoming swing.

With a mighty yank, Libra pulled the axe from the pillar, swinging it with ease around his waist to slip it in his belt behind his back. The metal sang as it scraped against rock, making Jeralt wince.

Libra simply wiped his hands on his dirty robes, clasping them behind his back as he bowed his head.

"When Tharja's trap was activated, it sent her awakening spell," Libra explained nonchalantly, "I suspect she and Henry will arrive in about an hour or so."

Jeralt exchanged a glance with Alois, who simply shrugged. Shamir looked indifferent, if not mildly impressed if the gaze she was sending Lbra's axe was any indication. 

"Right..." Jeralt trailed, staring at Libra in awe. 

Rhea knew how to brawl, Jeralt remembered, but she had thin arms. Was it a requirement for those who take up the holy path to know how to beat the ever-loving shit out of you. He pushed the thought away, tearing his gaze away from Libra's muscle to stare at the altar- a statue of who he assumed to be Naga stared right back and if he was crazy, Jeralt thought she might have had a smug look painted on her porcelain face. 

Shamir caught his eye, and Jeralt rolled his eyes at her smug grin.

"C'mon, Jeralt," Shamir said, *let's start with the altar."

"Ye-yeah, sorry," Jeralt agreed, and Byleth was running over to Libra to help him pick up stray candles that had fallen from their sconces, Alois having walked across the church to start clearing away any debris from the broken benches. Jeraltc feel Shamir's gaze bore into him as he stole glances at Libra while they worked; he was very patient with Byleth, who was easily distracted and was talking a mile a minute, calmly answering her rambling questions with a soothing, honeyed voice, molasses rolling off the tongue, music to Jeralt's ears, even. 

By the time they had cleaned up the altar, a flash of purple caught their attention and Jeralt's hand was already at his sword, muscles aching as he hugged over to Byleth who had a grin plastered on her face as in walked two mages. A man and a woman, both with pale skin and dark clothes; the woman wore a mesh suit with gold accents whilst the man offset his own clothes with a dramatic purple cape and sash combo, decorated with an eerie pattern of eyes on a high collar. 

"Tharja!" Libra beamed, and the woman hid behind a curtain of thick black hair, hands moving to tug at the twin ponytails on either side of her head. Jeralt had to admit, the sight of Libra fixing the gold headband she wore as it slipped was cute. 

"And Henry," Libra turned to give the man a quick hug, brushing sand off his cape. "I hope your travels were pleasant?"

The man, Henry, laughed, white hair falling in his eyes as Tharja scowled at him.

"We leave you be for two hours and you already get into trouble," Tharja scolded under her breath, her deep voice offset with a slight whine that made Jeralt's skin crawl.

"Whoa- look at all the mayhem you CAW-sed outside!" Henry cackled at his own joke and Jeralt pushed Byleth behind him as Libra ushered them closer. With a hand on his arm, Libra said, "Jeralt and his friends protected me when the wards were used up. I can assure you I am safe."

"And me!" Byleth suddenly piped up, running out from behind Jeralt, "I helped too!"

Tharja blinked, looking like she had just stepped on a bug, but Henry was quick to crouch down and offer her his hand, "Awww, man! Wish I coulda seen it! I'm Henry, what's your name?"

"This is my daughter, Byleth," Jeralt finally found the words, coughing into his fist as he stepped forward, gesturing to Shamir and Alois, *and these are Shamir and Alois."

"Oh, yeah! I heard of you!" Henry jumped up, leaning close as he not so subtly whispered, "You lead the Knights of Seiros, right? Right?"

"Correct, my friend!" Alois jumped in, "And I must say that cape is fantastic!"

Henry's grin was manic as he leapt towards Alois, eyeing his armor like a bear with a fish, "Never seen armor so shiny- lotsa my crow friends would love to have it- right, Tharja?"

Tharja crossed her arms, rubbing under her eyes. Spinning on her heel, she grumbled, "I'm going to go fix the wards. If you bother me I won't hesitate to curse you."

She marched right back out of the church, Libra letting her go to pull Jeralt towards the back of the church; the bandits hadn't gotten back there, but it was obvious Libra made enough of a mess to hide Byleth that if the bandits had made it far enough, they would give up after a few minutes. 

"Shall we start with clean-up?" Libra said, "I believe Henry can keep Alois and Byleth occupied long enough to let Tharja and Shamir do their own work."

Jeralt nodded, "They are... interesting."

Libra laughed, a beautiful sound that made Jeralt's jolt.

"Well, Tharja used to work as Occult Advisor to King Gangrel of Plegia. Darkness is sort of her specialty."

Jeralt hummed, "And Henry?"

"Bless his soul," Libra sighed, "poor man was abandoned as a child, raised by a pack of wolves in the forest until he was found and sent to a prison disguised as an orphanage for mages."

Jeralt balked; twisting a finger in his ear, he asked, "Are they dangerous?"

Libra shrugged, "You could say anyone is dangerous if you don't want to know them."

"Yes, but..." Jeralt huffed, scratching his chin. He could hear Alois and Henry's voices echoing from the main room and down the hall. Henry's laughter made him nervous, sounding slightly unhinged. Libra cocked his head, a questioning glance, but Jeralt shook his head, letting the matter drop- Byleth was occupied, as was Alois, which was great, especially after the whole earlier fiasco.

Naga have mercy that the bandits didn't try coming back.


End file.
